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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670858">Art and Science</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicaldork/pseuds/musicaldork'>musicaldork</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Herbert West - Reanimator - H. P. Lovecraft, Re-Animator (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Artists, Drawing, Emotions, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Opposites Attract, Reader-Insert, Science, Singing, and gets flustered when he realises theyre drawing him, basically herb likes spending time with an artist, but will he ever admit this? no.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:49:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicaldork/pseuds/musicaldork</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For all his intelligence, and every ounce of his aptitude, there is one thing that Herbert West cannot do.<br/>And that is draw a decent picture.<br/>Creativity has never been his strong suit. Oddly enough, it’s where you excel.<br/>Between the two of you, you strike a simple harmony in stark dichotomy.</p><p>Request: Herbie with an artist s/o who comes down to draw him, hang out in the lab and sing quietly to themselves!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Herbert West/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Art and Science</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>For all his intelligence, and every ounce of his aptitude - armed with an ever-churning brain and the ineffable theories housed inside of it - there is one thing that Herbert West <strong>cannot </strong>do.</p></div><div class=""><p>And that is draw a decent picture.</p></div><div class=""><p>It isn’t something that bothers him. He has much better things to do than to paint a flower or a sunset in the sky. So what if his drawings are crude and unskilled?<br/>
So as long as he can draw a neatly-inked diagram, with either protractor or ruler in hand, he doesn’t consider the need for anything else.</p></div><div class=""><p>Creativity has never been his strong suit. Oddly enough, it’s where you excel.<br/>
Between the two of you, you strike comfortable harmony in stark dichotomy.</p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>Herbert finds that there is something just so... enthralling, in seeing you bring different likenesses to life on a page.<br/>
He rarely takes the time away from his research to even breathe, but when he does, he likes to watch you draw. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Brisk, precise and purposeful in your every action, he found himself transfixed by you in a way, hands nimble with a grace he’d never quite had with paper and pen.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It takes a while to adjust to being watched so intently, but after a while, you find it an odd comfort - to sit near him in comfortable silence, going about your own business.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Your presence - and the sweet, melodious hum that bubbles up in you without even realising it - brings more life to the dank little basement than anything else ever could. Like a shot/shock of pure reagent to the soul.</p>
  <p>Though far from being a sociable man, Herbert finds that there is something refreshing about immersing himself in the vivid colour of you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>---</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Herbert tries not to intrude, but an odd curiosity grips him one day while working next to you. It’s a day the same as any other, but for once, you keep on looking at him. Is there something on his face? What…?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After countless poorly-hidden glances at him, his resolve to appear uninterested wears thin enough to snap. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Leaning over to look at what you’re drawing, his steely eyes widen behind their lenses at the unexpected sight. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s… a picture of him. An incredibly well-drawn picture of him, made by… you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hm. It really does look like me,” he states plainly, more to the walls than directly to you. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Averting his gaze, you note that he has flushed an exceptional pink, the colour travelling to his ears and down his neck towards his collar. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It looks great on him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His words are clipped but it’s a thing as close to praise as you think you’ll get out of him, and you appreciate it anyways - well-versed in the subtleties of the unfathomable Herbert West.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I hope you don’t mind,” you try for a start, but he interrupts you with a startled huff of air.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s fine,” he responds shortly, terse with feeling; warmed with an odd sort of pleasure at being your unknowing muse.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Herbert’s hands have busied themselves with a couple of empty vials by now, looking anywhere but straight at you. He’s so busy trying to look busy that he doesn’t catch your amusement.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a small, concealed smile, you settle yourself back into scratching out lines against the pages of your sketchbook. You hum another pleasant song, and it drifts over the basement - lulling the two of you into the gentle, hypnotic trance of quietly loving togetherness.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Love is seldom an orchestra, but more so the whisper of a melody under your breath - to someone who always wants to listen.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was pretty fun to write! and i think its kinda cute... :')</p><p>well, as always, check out my tumblr - dorkfanfic! <br/>requests are open there! ;)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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